An alumni perspective on the holidays
By: Jesse Greene
As a student, December meant less about the holidays (I was going to write “Christmas” but I’d hate to look like one of those ignorant white people) and more about exams. My life was taken over by excessive binge eating and evenings in TC 22 spent dreaming of the day that I would never again have to answer a question that began with “In what ways and to what extent.” More often than not, it would begin to look a lot more like x number of exams in x-1 days (in other words, a lot of exams in not a whole lot of time) than x-mas.
What was always most bizarre to me, though, wasn’t the stress, but the fact that for a season of sharing – of celebrations alongside those you (ought to) love most – it was actually a time I spent largely to myself.
Nightly 2:15 AM Tim Horton’s trips with friends allowed me to grieve the downside of post- colonial nationalism in Cuba and the need for an anti-calendar entry so that no one would ever make the mistake that I did by taking a course on post-colonial nationalism in Cuba. While these trips felt like an escape from solitude, the sense of relief was only ever temporary. Shortly after, or (more truthfully) whenever the guilt of trying to drag out the coffee trip tugged at my Catholic conscious to unrivalled levels only my mother could only aspire to achieve, I would return to a blank computer screen with a word count that needed to be doubled…and then some.
And then, after submitting the paper or writing the exam, I would return to my room and go through the same routine until the next one. My life was straight out of a scene from Groundhog Day. It was only during exam time that an otherwise twenty minute meal evolved into an hour long affair. Being with friends, even if it meant engaging in a competition to see who had it off worst, (cue the tales of post-colonial Cuban nationalism) served as the perfect escape from the countless evaluations.
And that really was what made this time the most solitary – the countless evaluations. It was during this period that you returned to being a 9-digit number whose ability to construct ideas, offer up original insight, and source appropriate examples was decoded into a percentage. Throughout December, one percent could feel like the difference between being the CEO and being the CEO’s receptionist. Doing well on an essay translated to a salary riddled with zeros (preferably six) preceded by a one. And not doing well? See: Parent’s basement.
In fourth year, the pressure had intensified. While I had absolutely no intention of attending either law or medical school, I doubted myself. What if I want to go to law school and that 81% on the in-class quiz keeps me from getting in? I was scared. Although I could apply reason to developing essay arguments in order to succeed, when it came to my own life, doing so evaded me.
Fear is a powerful weapon, and at university, it tended to be responsible for more than a few self-inflicted wounds. I recall feeling that the 84% I finished with in ECO100 was going to signal to a future employer that I wasn’t the best candidate for the position. I was wrong. I was hired a week before my final exam by two employers for corporate positions. I used the negotiating skills from university to not only secure the positions, but to fandangle both concurrently.Don’t let a number define your future. And, most importantly, don’t let December exam period be the Grinch who stole Christmas.
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